His Lost Lycan Luna (Jessica Hall) novel Chapter 190

Read His Lost Lycan Luna by Jessica Hall Chapter 190 – We stepped into a courtyard I had never been in before. My heart nearly stopped when I saw Ester tied with her hands chained above her head to the wall. Her clothes were torn at the back from where the whip had slashed her flesh, yet the wounds were healed, and she panted.

Kyson growls, and anger coursed through the bond. Peter stood with a whip in his hands that he swiftly dropped, shaking his head and looking at Kyson pleadingly. Clarice stood off to the side, nibbling her fingernails. The skin on her face had tears trekking down it and dripping off her chin.

Though Trey’s expressionless face as he stared at Peter shocked me the most. This was his sister, and he showed no care for her at all. It was shocking to see.

“Again! You have twenty more, Peter.” he snarls, stalking over to him and snatching the whip from the ground. He thrusts it at Peter, who flinches away from him. Bile rose up my throat, and I looked at Kyson squeezing his hand, and he turned his head, looking at me.

“It’s only twenty,” I tell him, and Ester glanced over her shoulder at me. Her face flushed red, and she panted before looking at Kyson.

“Hurry up, Peter. Finish it!” Kyson snaps.

“P***k.” I hiss under my breath, and Kyson growls, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“Watch your tone,” he whispers next to my ear.

“Watch yours.” I retorted, ripping my arm from his grip. I make my way over to Clarice, who explains Ester was taking it rather well, and Kyson overhearing that, did not sound impressed.

He walked over to Liam and talked to him before Liam walked off. Though I was quite shocked at how fast Ester was healing. The moment the whip pulled away, her skin closed. Being whipped was one thing. Seeing someone else made my skin prickle and itch.

I couldn’t stand the sound of the crack being made, the way it whipped through the air, the sound of tearing flesh. Flashbacks smashed me as l tried to block them out, and I wanted nothing more than to run. At this moment, I truly hated Kyson. Hated who he had become.

Yet once Peter finished, her skin was red and angry but no longer bleeding. That seemed to bother Kyson. He wanted blood, and plenty stained the stone ground, yet he was not sated by it. For the most part, I stared at the rose bushes, blocking out what was going around me until I heard Ester shriek when Liam walked in with a bucket. The potent scent of Wolfsbane reached my nose, and Clarice whimpered beside me, and I sat up straighter.

“Kyson!” I hissed. He growls, I know they need to be punished, but this seemed excessive even for him. I watched in h****r as he dipped the whip in the bucket, and my heart lodged in my throat, and tears sprung to my eyes as he pulled it out. The cracking sound sent spray everywhere and her scream I felt to my core.

One scream and it sent me back to a dark place and had me twisting where I sat on the edge of the garden. The contents of my stomach spewed out into the garden. Kyson, though, was almost rabid, not caring he made me sick.

Not caring for her screams or Peter’s begging. He wasn’t present, lost in his anger, and by the 100th one, Ester hung limply in the chains, yet still, he didn’t stop. I was trapped in the darkest parts of my mind. The darkest places I thought I would never be trapped in again. Only this time, my mate’s actions trapped me there until Clarice shrieked beside me.

Her hands that held me gripped me tighter. And Peter’s blood-curdling scream made goosebumps rise, and my ears rang loudly, ripping me out of my own head that was tormenting me. Peter lay on the ground, and Kyson stood over him with the whip in his hand. Ester was a b****y mess, and l could have sworn that some of the white meaty-looking bits of her back were exposed bone.

“Leave him,” Ester breathed. Yet she couldn’t move to lift her head. I gaped at the scene before me. Peter clutched his face. That was bleeding profusely. Kyson was enraged and, at some time, had shifted.

I swallowed as he breathed heavily, and the nearby gardener was pale as a ghost as he looked at Peter and Ester. He reached forward, gripping Peter’s arms.

“Please, no more! She can’t take anymore! Let me take her place.” Peter pleaded.

“No!” Clarice shrieked.

Kyson snarled, his upper lip pulling back over his teeth, and a sinister glint was in his black obsidian eyes. He tilts his head to the side.

“I’ll allow it,”

“He is a boy!” The gardener defended. I had no idea when he got here, but he obviously cared for Peter.